Summer 1992
by IrishNun
Summary: Set six months after Sam found out the truth about monsters. wee-Sam. wee-Dean. Abuse. Some words taken from S3 E8. Warnings of some child abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Summer 1992

**Rating:** Teen

**Summary: **Six months after Sam found out the truth about -Sam. wee-Dean. Abuse. Some words taken from S3 E8

**AN: **Warnings of some child abuse.

***SN***

**Part 1**

"You're in my spot," he heard another child say.

Sam was sitting on the floor at the back of the local library in Jackson, Mississippi.

Earlier that day, he had let it slip to his father that Dean had told him the truth about monsters. After giving out to Dean, things went from bad to worse and John inadvertently hit him across the cheek. Later that night, Sam decided enough was enough. His father had lied to him and worst of all his big brother had lied to him. He grabbed what little food was in the fridge and using his brother's knowledge, had broken into the town's public library. He found an aisle at the back containing reference books that looked as though they were hardly used. He rearranged the tables so that if someone did approach unexpectedly, he could quickly hide.

That was close to twelve hours ago.

Sam raised his head to the stranger's voice and silently swore. The tables didn't do their job properly. He was going to have to rearrange them again.

He noticed her feet first. They were scratched and black with dirt. "Where are your shoes?" he asked sliding over on the carpet.

"I only wear them for church on Sundays," she replied in a cute Jackson accent. "Who are you hiding from?" she sat down beside him and pulled up her knees in a similar position. She wore a white night dress with long sleeves. Her long blonde hair was tied loosely and was draped over a shoulder.

"My dad," Sam told her.

She nodded sadly. "Me too."

Then without saying another word, Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer.

***SN***

There were three things Dean hated about living on the road. The first was staying in motels. They were moldy, damp and smelled of old lady. He missed having a staircase and a porch. When their mother died, they stayed in a rented house as long as they could before the funds ran dry. Now they spent their lives either in motel rooms or in the Impala.

That was the second thing he hated. Although, he loved the Impala, its roar was soothing but sleeping in the back seat really twisted his neck. Unfortunately, he wasn't tall enough to sit in the front, so he and Sam had to share the back seat with the rest of their processions.

The third thing was seeing the effects of alcohol on their father. When he would come back to the room smelling of stale cigarettes and alcohol, they knew to stay out of his way. Most of the time, he would pass out face down on the bed and sleep it off but there were other times when he was verbally abusive.

None of this mattered, though, because having his little brother around made it all bearable. Even when he had to share a single bed in a smelly motel room or the back seat of a car with his brother, he loved it. The Impala's roar may have been soothing but waking up with Sam's blonde hair tickling his nose was comforting. He couldn't even go to sleep without hearing Sam's light snoring first. This was why he didn't want Sam to know the truth about monsters. He didn't want him to worry. That wasn't his job. It was the big brother's job to worry about what was lurking outside the door.

So, when he woke up late one morning in the summer of 1992 without a tickle and a snore, his heart nearly stopped.

***SN***

It was Christmas Eve when Sam found their father's journal and asked Dean for the truth. "We have the coolest dad in the world. He's a superhero," Dean beamed with eyes of admiration. He hoped Sam would feel the same but he didn't. He was hurt that the truth was kept from him for so long. He was hurt that no one trusted him enough to know what was really going on. "If they got mom, they can get dad. And if they get dad, they could get us." The worry in his brother's voice tore at Dean's heart. He hated seeing his little brother upset no matter how small the problem. "It'll all be better when you wake up. You'll see. I promise," Dean said with such conviction, he believed it himself. The truth was they were vulnerable to attack. Two small boys in a simple locked motel room with only one gun for protection wasn't exactly safe. But Dean wasn't going to worry his little brother with that fact.

Dean threatened Sam and made him promise not to tell their father he knew the truth. It worked for a while, at least. A case took them to Jackson, Mississippi at the start of summer. The humidity was becoming unbearable, even at night. Sam's whining caused a few arguments in the motel room. John, not being able to take it anymore, growled at him to stop and stood to leave. It was then that Sam slipped up. "Why are we here anyway? Are you hunting another monster?"

John stopped with his hand on the door handle. He tilted his head to the side and slowly turned around. "What did you say? Where did you hear that?" Mistake number two came when Sam looked to his brother for help. Dean stiffened and dropped his eyes hoping his father wouldn't notice. But he did and roared abuse at him. Dean should have stood up to him. He should have taken the abuse and taken his punishment like a man but when John swung his arm through a pile of cans sending them flying in the air, he ducked. Unfortunately, one can kept flying and hit Sam by mistake. All three gasped and froze.

Dean tossed in the uncomfortable chair. The events of the day were repeating in his dreams. He watched Sam cover his cheek with his hand and look to his brother in horror but Dean was too shocked to move. He didn't even help him to the bathroom or to the kitchenette to cool his cheek with ice. Silently, they ended the day like every other with cheap food and bottles of cola. Dean even gave Sam his bed to sleep alone while Dean took the chair.

The quiet sobbing woke him up. He looked over at the single bed and noticed it was empty. Dean rubbed his face and realised it was his own tears that woke him. He checked his watch. It was close to ten in the morning. He looked over to his father who was passed out in a sea of beer cans. He looked behind him and saw the bathroom door shut. He stood and tapped on it softly. It slowly swung open to reveal nothing. "Sammy?" Dean whispered careful not to wake their father. It was then that he noticed that Sam's bag and clothes were missing. He searched the room for a note but couldn't find anything. It hurt that Sam would run away from him but to not even leave a note was devastating.

He grabbed a sheet and pencil to leave a note for their father. 'Gone to zoo with Sammy' was the only thing he could think of saying. They had snuck into zoos before. It sometimes took them the whole day to wait for a large group of children that would force the zoo keeper to open the gates. So this excuse would give him a good eight hours to find him. The last thing he wanted to do was to tell their father he had lost his little brother. As he stepped outside their room, he brought his emulate up to his lips and did something that was out of the ordinary for him. He whispered a prayer for his brother's safety.

***SN***

**AN: **This fic is only a few chapters long so your reviews are appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thank you so so much for reading… and following. I started writing this fic a few months ago & I'm having terrible trouble finishing it. I'm hoping that if the pressure is on me & I start posting the story, an idea will pop in my head. I'm still waiting!

Anyway here's part 2. Enjoy!

***SN***

**Part 2**

Sam learned a lot about his new friend, Emily Little, as they sat together in the dim light. Although she was only a couple of months older than him, she had never attended school. She lived at home with her mother, father and five month old brother in a house not ten minutes walk from the library. Her mother got sick soon after her little brother was born and ever since then, Emily has had to take care of him and the house. Whenever it got too much for her, she would sneak into the library for a few hours of peace.

Within the short time they sat together, he learned that she loved jelly sweets and salted potato chips, which he willingly shared with her. He learned that her favourite book was The Secret Garden, which she constantly borrowed from the library. They shared the same favourite smell; cut grass and the same drink; pink lemonade. They also shared the same love for their brother.

"Sometimes he's annoying, though," she said tearing a jelly apart with her teeth. "He cries a lot and when he's not crying he needs feeding or changing." She looked up at her new friend shyly. "Sometimes daddy gives out to me 'cause he says it's my fault he's crying."

But Sam shook his head and told her that it wasn't. "He's just a baby. All babies cry."

Emily nodded and silently ate her jelly.

"Sometimes my brother is annoying, too," Sam shared. "He says he's protecting me but I think it's just another word for lying. Plus he shouts at me… a lot… especially when I ask him about our mom." His head dropped to the side in thought. He wished she hadn't died when he was a baby. He wished he had at least a few memories of her like Dean had. He wished he could remember at least one thing.

Emily got to her feet. "I have to go home now," she announced and before he could argue, she skipped away leaving Sam all alone again.

***SN***

John groaned awake raising his head off the pillow and pushing the empty cans out his face. His head felt as though it had been hit by a truck. His ears felt as though there were a thousand bees buzzing inside them and his eyes burned like they were staring into a hundred suns. It was like he was suffering the mother of all hangovers. He dropped his leg and arm out over the side of the bed and let them hang there for a few seconds before he rolled out over the edge. He struggled to steady himself on his feet and held onto the wall for support.

With his eyes barely open, he staggered over to the bathroom holding his head when the door squeaked open louder than expected. He leaned heavily over the sink and didn't know whether he wanted to sit on the toilet or throw up in it. He didn't have to wait too long for an answer. He lifted the lid in time to empty the contents of his stomach.

Ten seconds later, he was leaning over the sink again. He turned on the cold tap and splashed as much water as he could over his face even scooping some in his mouth to wash out the unpleasant taste. He groaned when he looked at his reflection. Dark bags hung from his eyes. The creases around his mouth and forehead had deepened in recent years and he looked a lot older than he should. He rubbed his hands over his face again and glanced at his watch. It was just after two. "Time for breakfast," he tried to smile but failed miserably.

He exited the bathroom announcing to his sons that he was going out for food if they fancied joining him but he was alone. This had happened to him before. He had gone out drinking, gotten up late and found them the next day eaten, dressed and playing outside. He checked outside the door. There were two children playing across the road but they weren't his. He closed the door again leaning his back against its wooden frame. He narrowed his eyes as they covered the room. The other double bed was neatly made and there was a blanket on a chair opposite it. John frowned and wondered why his boys hadn't slept together. Dean often complained about having to share a bed with this brother but the chair didn't look especially comfortable.

He looked around the room again. There was a sheet of paper on the writing desk. On it, Dean had written that he had taken Sam to the zoo. "The zoo!?" John whispered. "But today's Tuesday!" He grabbed yesterday's paper to confirm the day. It was indeed Tuesday. He knew they had snuck into zoos for free before, although he didn't approve. But he knew that if they waited long enough for a large group of children, the zookeeper usually opened the gates wide enough to allow them to sneak inside. The chance of that happening, though, on a Tuesday was highly improbable, John shook his head in thought. School tours usually occurred on a Thursday or Friday and birthday parties mainly happened on Saturdays. Nothing every happened on a Tuesday especially during school term.

Something wasn't right.

He dropped the note and looked around the room a third time. He noticed Sam's bag was missing. He checked the bottom drawer of the cupboard that was usually left for Sam's clothes. It was empty. He checked the middle drawer which usually contained Dean's clothes. They were still present. John rubbed his hand through his hair and wondered what was going on. He tried to remember what happened the night before. He could barely remember coming home. "Maybe I'll remember something after I get some food in me," he shook his head when he heard his stomach grumble.

He slipped on his coat and shoes. Reaching the door, he noticed a pile of empty cans on the floor and as he began picking them up, the memories suddenly flashed back. "Oh my God," he gasped in horror and quickly ran out the door. "Sammy!"

***SN* **

Dean was running out of options and time. He looked at his watch. It was just after four. If his father had bothered to check the opening times of the local zoo, he would find that it closed at five on Monday and Tuesday, which meant that he had less time than he thought to find his brother. He had checked all the areas he considered good places to get lost in. He checked restaurants, cafes, churches and even a number of local schools, just in case but his little brother was nowhere to be seen.

Realizing he needed help, he reluctantly headed back to the motel. He dragged his feet along the gravel and wondered how he was going to face his father. He was already scared of his father when he was angry and drunk. But he couldn't imagine how bad an angry father who was sober would be. He passed an empty beer can and his body filled with such hatred he angrily kicked it hard across the road. A car swerved to avoid it and the driver stuck his head out to yell at Dean. But Dean didn't see the car. He didn't even see the driver. What he did see was a large sign for the Jackson public library.

He sprinted to the doors and passed the unsuspecting librarian. Pushing his way through two very large women he began searching every corner. The library was a lot bigger than he expected and had two floors. The ground floor contained books for the general public and the first floor contained research books. Dean checked everywhere especially the areas at the back. He was about to give up hope when he noticed a number of tables arranged peculiarly. He leaned his head over them and saw his little brother turning the page of a rather large tattered book.

"Sammy!" he squealed with excitement and jumped at him. In shock, Sam rigidly let him be hugged but anger soon swelled up inside and he pushed his brother away. "What is it?" Dean asked. "Can't I be happy to see my little brother?"

Sam shrugged. "You hurt me Dean. Dad may have hit me but what you did was way worse," he bent down to his bag and began refilling it.

Dean nodded. "I know and I'm sorry. I promise that'll never happen again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," his brother mumbled sadly. He zipped up his bag and readied himself to find another hiding place. But Dean stopped him with a hand on the shoulder. Sam unwillingly looked into his eyes.

"You're my little brother," Dean started. "I swear to you no matter who it is, whether its dad or a monster, I promise, from now on, I will never let anyone hurt you again. I swear, Sammy."

Sam nodded softly. He wanted to believe him. "What if you're the one who's hurting me?"

Dean shook his head and removed his hand. He wasn't expecting that response and gasped a little. He didn't think he had ever hurt him before. Then Sam explained that whenever he mentioned their mother, Dean would shout at him to shut up. "I know it's my fault she's dead," he said with tears in his eyes.

"No, no way," Dean shouted but quickly quieted his voice. He didn't want to frighten his brother and he certainly didn't want to attract attention from any adult. "She died trying to protect you. You didn't kill her. It was that damn monster. It isn't your fault."

"Then why can't we ever talk about her," Sam whispered so quietly he was hardly audible.

Dean sighed. He hated talking about their mother. It always made him remember how much he missed her. He never thought that Sam would be missing her too. He didn't even know her. "You know why I love ordering strawberry milkshakes when we eat out?" he wanted to give his little brother a memory. It was something he should have done a long time ago. Sam shook his head letting his blonde hair swallow his eyes. "It smells like mom's perfume," Dean smiled.

***SN***


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Dean saw Sam look over his shoulder to a darker corner behind him. "Does that promise extend to my friends as well?" he asked and Dean watched a small girl appear out of the shadows.

"Wow Sammy, I leave you alone for one day and you go find yourself a girlfriend. She's cute," he elbowed his brother in the side.

"Deeean," Sam squirmed and introduced him to Emily.

"Emily Little," Dean repeated and his eyes widened when he recognised the name. "I can't help her, Sammy."

"Why not," Sam tugged at his brother's sleeve. "You said you wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Well, Emily getting hurt is hurting me, so you have to help her."

But Dean apologised and shook his head. "I can't help her, Sammy. She's already dead."

***SN***

John was losing hope. It was twenty after five and he was standing outside the gates of the zoo just in case they had somehow snuck inside. The zoo keeper met him at the entrance and looked defeated. Security had agreed to search the zoo twice looking for the children but found nothing. John dropped his head and thanked them.

As he walked down the street, he contemplated going to the authorities for help. He dragged his feet along the gravel and wondered how he could have been so stupid. He had lost his wife and now he was loosing his children. He passed a flattened beer can at the side of the road and kept his head down. Drink was destroying him and his boys.

***SN***

Sam stood between them wanting to protect his new friend. He knew what his brother's temper was like. It wasn't as bad as their father's but Dean could give a mean punch when he wanted to and the last thing Sam wanted to do was to frighten Emily.

"She's a ghost," Dean spat in a loud whisper. "Dad says all ghosts hurt people. We have to find her grave and burn her bones."

But Sam wouldn't move. "And what if he's wrong? I won't let you hurt her," his mouth frowned and Dean knew what was coming next. He could see his little brother's eyes glisten over and with one blink the tears fell.

An older man had been searching the aisles. Someone had witnessed a child run through the doors of a restricted area which should only be accessed by library personnel or research graduates due to the age of the books being stored. He heard some low whispers and took no notice. It was only when he heard the sobs that he grew concerned. Following the noises, he found two small boys in a dark corner comforting each other with a hug. "Let me see what I can do," he heard one boy say as he decided to leave them alone for a while. He didn't see the third child wipe her tears and thank him.

***SN***

Emily Little's father, Robert Little, was a terror of a man. His large stature and rotten temper scared every woman and child in the town and even scared many men. He died in the summer of 1984 when his wife shot him in self defense after he had killed their two children. "Billy wouldn't stop crying," Emily recalled, "and I couldn't make him stop. So daddy stopped us both."

Sam showed Dean a book he found on one of the aisles. It was a book of the paranormal. When Dean found him, he was reading a chapter on the spiritual world. "See," Sam pointed out one passage, "Dad's journal says the same thing." Dean read what was pointed out to him. Ghosts were described as being the trapped souls of the dead. The longer they remained on earth, the angrier they became. This gave rise to the definition of a poltergeist.

"I knew she was a ghost the first time I touched her," Sam whispered. "Her skin was cold. I remembered reading that in dad's journal. That when a ghost passes near you, they're cold."

Dean nodded with a heavy sigh. The situation still only had one solution.

"But what if her dad is waiting for her? I don't want her to go," Sam whined. It was hard to make friends living on the road. Up until now, his brother was his only friend.

"Don't be selfish, Sammy," Dean snapped but recoiled when he saw Sam sadden. He groaned loudly and closed the paranormal book. "What's the first thing you remember when you died?" Dean asked the now frightened little girl. She turned to Sam but his gentle smile eased her.

"I remember a bright light coming from the kitchen behind mommy," she told him. Dean asked her why she didn't walk into it. "Because, daddy said the light would hurt me. He said the light was fire and I would get burnt."

"How often you do see this light?" Sam stepped forward. He knew what his brother was doing. When people speak of having near death experiences they always say the same thing. There was a bright white light and a sense of warmth. If Emily's dad didn't want her to leave, he could easily pretend the light was fire and force her to stay. "Do you see it every day?"

Emily shrugged. "I used to but I don't see it that much anymore. Why?"

Sam explained that if she went into the light it wouldn't hurt. She could go to heaven and be at peace. "And you'd be able to see your mom and little brother again," he smiled weakly.

"I can't," Emily shook her head. "Every time I see it, my daddy stands in the way. I can't get passed him and then the light disappears. I'm too scared of him, Sam," her eyes filled with tears and her shoulders moved to her sobs. Sam ran to her aide and looked back to his brother. "We can't leave her here, Dean. We can't let her dad hurt her over and over again. We have to do something."

But Dean shook his head. He didn't know what to do. This case was way out of his league. Even if he could find Robert Little's body, there's no way he could salt and burn the bones alone. He knew what he needed to do.

***SN***

**AN:** Thanks everyone for reading & clicking that favourite button. Really appreciate it. One more part left.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: **Apologies for the delay. I wanted to get the ending perfect. This conclusion is, in part, thanks to a private review from snseriesfan. I had a sentence rolling in my head and their review helped me finish the story. See, reviews _can_ help a story. Thanks for reading! WARNING AGAIN of child abuse.

**Part 4**

John entered the motel room tired and alone. In the end couldn't go to the authorities for help. He stood in the parking lot for over an hour trying to muster up enough courage but he just couldn't do it. If they searched his possessions at the motel room, how could he explain everything? The fake ? The weapons? And what if they did find his boys? They'd find Sam with a bruise on his cheek… no… he couldn't explain that. Not without telling the truth. He hit his boy, even if it was inadvertently. Social services would be called and he could lose them both. No, he couldn't chance that. It was too much of a risk.

He had moved away from the door only a few seconds when Dean fell inside. He was panting hard and his clothes were dark with sweat. "I know where he is," he leaned back on the door and tried to catch his breath.

John knelt in front of his boy and held Dean's shoulders shaking them slightly. "You know where Sammy is?"

"No… well yeah… but that's not what I'm talking about," Dean gasped for air. He didn't realise how far the motel was from the library. John searched his face for clues. "The case," Dean tried again. "The ghost you're searching for. His name is Robert Little."

John stood and turned away from him. "Dammit Dean, I know who he is," he yelled. "Every summer, he terrorises young mothers and newborns. I thought you were searching for Sam."

"I was… I did…," he finally caught his breath and stood away from the door. "I _did_ find Sam."

John dropped his shoulders in relief. "Thank God," he breathed out heavily and asked where he was. Dean told him he was at the library but was reluctant to tell him which one. "You can never do that again, okay?" he demanded from his father. "You can never hurt Sammy like that."

"I know that, Dean. It was a mistake…"

"It doesn't matter," Dean interrupted. "Next time… I won't let you hurt him like that again." Dean narrowed his eyes. He may have been shorter than the man but his courage made him feel a lot stronger. "The next time you get drunk or you feel like you've drank too much… don't come home. I don't want Sammy to see you like that again. I don't care where you go. Just don't come back here."

John was a little taken back. When he told Dean to protect his little brother, he always wondered how far he would go. He never liked leaving them alone in a single locked motel room with only a shot gun for protection and when he was gone for more than a night, it terrified him. But seeing Dean stand up to him like this made him proud. He didn't have to worry about them anymore.

He tried to hide his smile. "Okay, you're right," he nodded. "Next time I'll sober up somewhere else. I promise," he held his hand over his heart. "There won't be a next time."

Dean nodded satisfied with the reply. He stepped over to his father's travel bag and pulled out a map, salted bullets and a box of matches. John placed his hand on the son's shoulder and asked what was he was doing. "Sam bumped into Emily Little at the library. She told us where her dad is buried so you can burn the bones and stop him from hurting people."

John noticed the sadness in Dean's eyes and he knew exactly what Emily had told them. Her father abused her and her mother every day. When her six month old brother wouldn't stop crying on Thursday, Robert shook him to be quiet. But he shook too hard and when Emily tried to stop him, he pushed her away too hard too. After her mother shot Robert, she couldn't live without her children and ended her life with a gun to the temple. But Robert's spirit still had unfinished business. He wanted to stop all newborns from crying. And his unwillingness to cross over trapped him and his family in an unending loop. The mother, baby and Emily were buried in the local graveyard but there were no record of where Robert was buried.

***SN***

Sam flinched when he saw his father again. He didn't mean to. It definitely wasn't intentional and he could see his father's face covered in hurt. Dean stepped between them and straight to his brother's side. Emily stood on the other side. It was as if they were forming a wall in front of Sam protecting him from his father. John stepped back and instantly retracted his arms that were intended for a hug. He suddenly realised it would take a while for his sons to trust him again. "Where's he buried?" John asked Emily as gently as he could. "Please," he added when the little girl looked to his boys for support.

They were standing in the back yard of her family home. The house used to be part of a row of beautifully decorated houses full of young families and after her bully of a father died everyone was free to leave which they quickly did. But this left the houses silent and derelict. A set of swings were heavy with ivy and a wooden slide was hard with moss. Emily raised her hand in front of her and pointed to a large horse chestnut tree. "He's under that," her voice was soft and weak. She hadn't been in the back garden in so long. She never played there when her father was home. She was always afraid she'd make too much noise and he would beat her because of it. Things were never easy at home. She knew her father loved her or at least that's what her mother told her. Before her brother was born, she had faint memories her father pushing her on a swing or holding her protectively as she slid down a slide. But then her brother arrived and her mother suffered complications. The arguments got louder and the beatings more frequent. Some days it was just easier to stay in the library all day.

John handed Dean the loaded shot gun. "He may appear when I start digging. I need you to protect me, okay son?" "Yes sir," Dean nodded locking the shot gun in place. John then looked to his younger son who was clutching the hand of his new friend. "Sammy, I need you to protect Emily. If Robert gets me and Dean, you'll be the last line of defence." "Yes sir," Sam replied. "No matter what, do not leave her side," he reiterated but he knew he didn't have to say anything at all. Sam wasn't the kind of person to walk away from someone who was in trouble. He wasn't like that. Neither of his boys were.

John grabbed the shovel from the boot of his Impala and headed for the large dead tree. He looked around out of habit but he didn't have to worry about being seen. There were no neighbours for miles. Thirty minutes of digging and he finally hit something. As he threw the shovel away, he felt dust fall on the back of his neck and heard Emily yelp. He popped his head out of his square hole to see Dean reload the shot gun and Sam protectively step in front of Emily. They all looked terrified. "Where is he?" John shouted at them. "Behind you," Dean yelled pointing the gun at his father's head. John ducked and felt the dust fall on the back of his neck again. "Tell me when you're low," he rolled out of the grave and reached into his bag for the canister of gasoline which he threw over the closed coffin. He didn't have time to open it and he didn't have time to light it either because as he placed his hand in his pocket, he felt a weight hit the back of his head.

Flicking open his eyes, he saw Robert Little knock the gun from Dean's hands. Just like John had ordered, Sam didn't move from his post. Not even when Robert knocked Dean to the ground. Sam still protected Emily from any danger. As the monster of a man headed towards Sam to take his daughter away, John reached inside his pocket and threw his lighter into the dark hole engulfing the coffin in flames. It only took a few seconds before the effects could be seen on the man's ghost and he screeched in pain as his bones turned to dust.

***SN***

Sam still held on tightly to Emily's hand as his father helped Dean to his feet. He felt a tug on his hand and turned to see what had grabbed Emily's undivided attention. To the right of the tree was a bright yellow light. If they weren't facing north, it looked like an ordinary sunrise. "Wow... that must be it," John said standing alongside Sam. Dean stood on the other side. Sam looked back to the light and then back to Emily. She had let go of his hand and was now facing him. She smiled gently and he couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you so much, Sam," she whispered and held him for a long hug. His eyes filled with tears and blurred his vision. "I don't want you to go," he pleaded with her.

"Damn it, Sammy. Stop it," Dean growled. Sam turned around in anger. His big brother didn't wait long to break his promise, he thought. But the words were suddenly stuck in his mouth. Using his sleeve, he rubbed the blur out his eyes and noticed Dean's face. Tears were dripping down his cheeks and his bottom lip was trembling. Sam was shocked. This was the first time he had ever seen his big brother cry. Maybe he had gotten injured when Robert Little knocked him down. But when he looked to his father, he was shocked even further. He was crying too!

They were both mesmerized by the light in front of them and it was only when Sam turned back to it that he realised why. Standing there holding a small bundle was Emily's mother. Her face was slightly blurred but they could make out her long blonde hair and from their distance, she looked strangely similar to their mother, Mary Winchester. It was then that Sam realised how selfish he was being because it wasn't just him that was feeling the pain of having no mother. The two standing beside him were feeling just as bad because they had memories to support their loss.

***SN***

John tried unsuccessfully to hide his tears from Sammy. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him but it was no use. As soon as he saw Emily's mother the tears began to flow. He didn't realise how much he missed Mary until that moment. The pain of losing someone was supposed to get better, wasn't it? At least that's what everyone told him would happen but seeing this woman brought all those feelings back again.

Emily's mother reached out her hand to her daughter and from the corner of his eye he could see Dean taking a step forward to follow. John placed his hand on the boy's shoulder to hold him back even though it took all of his strength not to run into the light with him.

As the visions disappeared into the light and the brightness began to fade, John could hear his son's sobs clearer. He ruffled his hand through Dean's hair affectionately and was about to do the same to Sam but realised he couldn't. Things were different now. He couldn't treat his youngest like a baby anymore.

***SN***

Dean tried to wipe his hand over his face and pretend the tears never existed but his face was still blotchy. His father ruffled his hair and Dean squirmed to get away but part of him loved it. The light eventually faded leaving them in darkness again. Dean looked over to his little brother. His face was just as blotchy as his. He didn't care what Sam thought of him. As long as he was allowed to call him Sammy, he was going to mother him and protect him as long as he could.

Sam turned to him and they shared a silent moment of gratitude. Before their father could move away from them to refill the open grave, Sam held him back by tugging his leather jacket. "Wait," he said through his hoarse throat. Their father dropped to a knee and was nearly knocked over by Sam's running hug. Dean wiped away an escaping tear and also ran towards his father.

John affectionately kissed them both and thought maybe he hadn't lost his boys after all.

***SN***


End file.
